Page 65 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

The horrid man straightened slightly, turning to face him. “Colonel Halstead,” he said, his smile returning—forced now, a little too unsteady. “I was making conversation with your charming ward.”

“Were you indeed?” Edward asked, tone pleasant but razor-sharp.

Felicity shivered. Daphne had taken a small, measured step away from Arnold and closer to Edward. It was a tiny shift, but it said everything. The way she looked up at her guardian, with trust and a tight-lipped smile, set Felicity at ease.

Edward’s expression did not change, but Felicity knew he saw it too.

“I would be very careful, Mr. Arnold,” Edward said, voice still too low to carry beyond the four of them. “London is not as large as one might think, nor is one’s reputation so untouchable.”

Mr. Arnold’s jaw flexed. A challenge had been made, though he knew better than to answer it. He gave a short, stiff bow, then turned and walked away. Only when he disappeared into the crowd did Felicity move to put herself between Daphne and anyone possibly watching the exchange.

Daphne turned to Edward, her face still composed, but her voice quieter than usual. “Thank you, Colonel.”

Edward studied her carefully. “Are you well?”

She nodded. “I am now.” Then, she hesitated. As though debating whether to say something.

Edward waited as Felicity’s heart hammered.

“I am afraid I was about to step on his foot,” she admitted finally.

Felicity covered her mouth to keep a sharp, relieved laugh from popping out.

Edward’s frown deepened. “You were what?”

Daphne’s mouth tugged into the smallest of smiles. “It is a trick I learned from Aunt Felicity. If a gentleman stands too close or refuses to move, one need only step onto his toes, hard enough to make him shift away, but not enough to be accused of an outburst. A swift apology always follows, of course, but the pain in the toes remains!”

Edward huffed a quiet, amused breath. He glanced at Felicity, his eyes sparkling. “Not a terrible idea.” He looked at Daphne again. “And if that had failed?”

Daphne lifted her chin slightly. “Then I would have asked, quite loudly, how he had enjoyed his time in debtor’s prison.”

Felicity’s brows lifted. “Mr. Arnold—was in debtor’s prison?”

Daphne’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. “No. But I doubt he would have liked others wondering if he had been.”

Felicity stared at her seemingly unknowable niece. Then, slowly, she smiled.

“You were going to handle him yourself,” Edward said, a note of approval in his voice.

Daphne nodded. “I was.”

“But I arrived first.”

“You did.” Daphne reached out and squeezed his arm. “Still, I was glad for your rescue,” she admitted.

Edward said nothing, though Felicity saw him swallow, the movement tight beneath his cravat. Then he inclined his head. “You had better go back to your friends, my dear.”

“Yes, Colonel.” She beamed up at him, at his show of approval and trust. The young woman stepped back toward the gathering crowd, her usual poise returning.

Felicity watched her go, pride swelling in her chest. Daphne had not invited trouble. She had not needed rescuing, and she had been grateful for Edward’s presence all the same. Felicity turned to him, ready to comment on it, but the words died on her lips.

Edward was not watching Daphne. He was staring at nothing in particular, his expression dark and unreadable.

Felicity’s stomach tightened. All her concern for him returned. “Edward?”

His jaw tensed. “Not here, Captain,” he said, his voice lower now. “I cannot speak of it here.” Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

Felicity watched him go, unease curling in her chest. Mr. Arnold was gone. Daphne was safe. Whatever could be troubling the man?